


mission conditioning

by kiden



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 00:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15545547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiden/pseuds/kiden
Summary: In which John Sheppard has a plan, Rodney is full of chocolate, and the author puts the repeal of DADT and the release of Guardians of the Galaxy too close to each other."The Hershey Kisses had only been effective for so long. They were pretty convenient, yeah, he could carry a dozen of them hidden in the pockets of his pants or TAC vest, but they’d lost their shine pretty quickly. Rodney had eventually started turning them down, his face scrunching, looking generally displeased at John’s choice of chocolates. "(repost)





	mission conditioning

It had started small. Foil wrapped Kisses in the palm of John’s hand, offered up without a word, which Rodney would always take with a small, happy sound of thanks. Milk chocolate was good, but he’d move faster for ones with almonds and the caramel, would make a damn-near pornographic sound at the special darks. Cookies n’creme hadn’t gone over well, and John wound up unloading the entire bag in a big bowl on his desk. Lorne had denied having even one of them, but John is mostly sure he’d devoured them all. He’d find little blue wrappers on his morning run, dropped accidentally where the best views of the city were. The places Lorne liked to paint in his off time.

The Hershey kisses had only been effective for so long. They were pretty convenient, yeah, he could carry a dozen of them hidden in the pockets of his pants or TAC vest, but they’d lost their shine pretty quickly. Rodney had eventually started turning them down, his face scrunching, looking generally displeased at John’s choice of chocolates. A face that had called John a plebeian without him having to move his mouth at all. Which was pretty standard.

So he’d moved to Ferrero Rocher, common enough it wouldn’t cause a stir to get it sent with the Daedalus but just the right amount of rare-to-see they’d catch Rodney’s attention. His eyes

following the pretty gold wrapping like John was waving around a ZPM. He’d been mid- sentence the first time John tossed him one across the lab with a jovial, Hey, Rodney, what’s up?

Rodney had faltered in his diatribe, catching it clumsily against his chest, shocked just long enough for the newbie scientist he was berating to hightail it out of sight. He’d opened his mouth and closed it again, unwrapping the chocolate and inspecting it suspiciously. “What -,” he’d started, then settled on, “why?” But John had avoided the question by bringing up the shiny new Guardians of the Galaxy blu-ray in his possession and whether or not an anamorphic raccoon could be taken seriously within the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Rodney had rolled his eyes and said of course, and it could be worse, and it could be Howard the Duck. He’d take Rocket over Howard, hands down, no question about it.

“That’s when you know the time of quality comic book movies is coming to an end. When they make a new Howard the Duck film.”

John had agreed with all of those points, of course. He liked Rocket. And now, considering the path his life had taken, had a new appreciation of Star-Lord. He’d been wondering vaguely if he could convince anyone to call him Star-Lord (the possibility was absolutely non-existent), when Rodney had bit into the candy. His tongue flicking out slowly to catch the creamy center of it. And he’d made a noise, not unlike the pornographic dark chocolate noise, and then John had stopped thinking about everything.

The stupor the appearance of Rodney’s tongue had put him in remained until the after-credits scene, Howard the Duck sitting there as though he’d been planted just to ruin Rodney’s day.

“Between this and Ben Affleck,” Rodney said, more hurt than angry, as though Howard had been a personal attack, “I may just give up altogether.”

None of that was true, of course, because Rodney agreed to watch Bam! Pow! Splat! Batman not three days later, forgetting all about Batffleck and reveling in the wonderful camp that was Adam West’s portrayal. Holy Love-Sick Colonels, Batman! John thought, watching Rodney suck the filling out of another Ferrero Rocher. It wasn’t fair, really, even though it was all of his own doing. All part of his plan, because there was, absolutely a plan. Right from the first Hershey Kiss.

It had come to him months ago on the breakfast line. Kane, a newer scientist that Rodney previously couldn’t stand, hurrying up to them with a cup of coffee clutched in both her hands. She’d passed it along to Rodney, a shy smile on her face, and said it was the last with the actual creamer, not the powdered stuff, and John had suddenly remembered her bringing him coffee for weeks. Rodney had smiled at her, a real smile, and when she asked if she could join the team working on The Thing With The Thing (the thing John couldn’t remember, because it was never going to shoot anything or blow something up and it wasn’t a hoverboard, so he couldn’t really bring himself to care that much) he’s just said yes. Simple as that. Yes, of course.

Then he’d turned to John and said, “She’s nice.”

Rodney had called her nice, in a weird sing-song voice, then shoved a muffin in his mouth so he could carry the coffee and his breakfast sandwich at the same time. John had been so shocked, so utterly disturbed, that it wasn’t until Teyla elbowed him gently away from the tray of bacon that he’d come to his senses.

Conditioning. The word has sprung to life in his head, blinking bright like a neon sign. Rodney could be conditioned. It seemed shitty, even at the time, to consider it but it wasn’t like the plan would involve drugging him (although John would never seriously rule that out as future possibility, Rodney had once done it to him, after all). Anyway, this would be different. It was

just an experiment. It was for science, and Rodney would appreciate that. And he’d get to eat massive amounts of chocolate. There was almost literally no downside.

Except that John hadn’t really thought of an endgame. What was he trying to accomplish in making sure that Rodney smiled that very bright, very selective, almost only for John, smile whenever they saw each other? Sure, it was really all about the chocolate Rodney subconsciously knew would be coming, it wasn’t real, but it twisted John’s stomach and made his heart beat faster in a very, very real way. Which, okay, maybe that was part of it. Maybe John, selfishly, just wanted Rodney to smile at him more. Just wanted to make sure Rodney liked him the best. Just in case there was another Katie Brown lurking around somewhere, or Keller got a clue and wanted a second go-round.

It was kind of pathetic. But John was fine with that. He was, most of the time, a man at the end of his rope.

And it wasn’t as though Rodney didn’t know. It wasn’t something they talked about, but it certainly wasn’t a secret between them. The way Rodney looked at him sometimes, John waking up in the infirmary or shot in the neck with a dart off-world - this look like he knew John wanted to be touched, wanted Rodney to be the one doing it, to lay a hand on his shoulder or intertwine their fingers. Rodney sure as hell knew, and when the Underwhelming Keller-McKay split happened, just three weeks after the official repeal of DADT, John had thought nothing but net. He’d been so confident that him and Rodney were a sure thing that he’d swapped out his bed for a big boy one in preparation of being able to listen to Rodney complain about his perpetually cold feet all night long. Showing more commitment to a relationship that hadn’t even started yet than he’d shown for anything, ever, even his Johnny Cash poster that had been with him since college, thrown out with a shrug after Ronon’s accident with the vacuum cleaner destroyed it.

But it hadn’t happened. Rodney had gone right back to being Rodney, back to giving John those strange let-me-kiss-you looks that never amounted to anything. Even though John was standing there wearing a sign that said I’m right here, come and get it, take up as much room in my life as you want to.

So maybe Mission Conditioning had come about as a way to say, hey, remember me? John, who hasn’t touched an orange in three years. Who carries your epi-pens and beats you at chess, procures the beer you like and cheats at almost every other game we play, just because you’re cute when you’re indignant. John, who is so openly fond of you, in all your annoying, frustrating, pain-in-the-ass Rodneyness, that Laura Cadman asks three times a week if monogrammed bath towels would be a good wedding gift.

Finally, after three months of candy bars and bite-sized balls of orgasmic delight, it’s the Teuscher chocolates that get him. Sent by Jeannie, wrapped beautifully in delicate green paper, it’s two hundred dollars worth of Dark Champagne Truffles. Not handed out one by one whenever John enters the room, but placed carefully in front of him in the lab, a big yellow bow staring up at the both of them in judgment.

“You’ve been playing me,” Rodney said immediately, dropping the device in his hand and staring up at him.

“No,” John shook his head. Well, kind of, yeah. “Okay, yeah. But just a little. But you had to see your face. It was like bringing you a fully charged ZPM everyday.”

“You idiot,” Rodney sighed. John watched his fingers carefully unwrap the box, and tried very, very hard not to imagine them doing other more interesting things. “You thought it was the chocolate.”

“I thought it was the chocolate, hazelnut, and creme combination,” John corrected.

Rodney just stared at him, eyes big and blue, as if trying to beam his thoughts into John’s head, and it sort of worked. “It was me,” he said, his mouth raspberrying out an almost-laugh. “I thought -.”

“I just broke up with Jennifer!” Rodney said defensively, but softer than his usual bite. “I was just giving it time. You’re supposed to give things time. Uh, aren’t you?”

“Rodney, you broke up with Keller a year ago.”

“No, that’s not right. Was it?” He narrowed his eyes, fingers tapping across three of the truffles. “Oh. Mmm. Sorry. Did you want to date now?”

“Yes,” John said, shaking his head. “That would be nice. You jackass.”

Rodney narrowed his eyes, a smile on his face, and shoved a very expensive, very delectable truffle into John’s mouth. “Stuff it,” he said, and John thought, chasing after him with a mouthful of chocolate, oh man, I totally plan on it.


End file.
